


Clinch

by cherryjam (blueskull)



Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (but not a very good one), Drabble, FFxivWrite2020, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, no wols in this story, some implied darker themes, written for ffxivwrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26318329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskull/pseuds/cherryjam
Summary: The bottle of whiskey thumps against the table as Nezha narrows her eyes at her mother across the table.
Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913422
Kudos: 2





	Clinch

The bottle of whiskey thumps against the table as Nezha narrows her eyes at her mother across the table.

“And why must _I_ do it?” she demands coolly, her golden eyes glinting in the candlelight.

“He already likes you,” the older woman replies with a purr, sipping her drink. “You even bare a name he’s fond of.” Leaning back against her chair, she seems to consider something. The smirk that bares her fangs is sharp. “It’s as if you were _born_ for this moment.”

Nezha’s gaze rolls skyward, staring at the wooden rafters above. Nothing but an investment, she is. But she knows that already.

“I’m not planning on going to bed with him.”

“If you’re lucky, you won’t have to.” Her mother shrugs her shoulders. “He seems like the sort not to fiddle unless he’s married. And perhaps if the preparations take long enough, you won’t have to bother. Just find out where he keeps all his precious gems...and make _it_ look like an _accident_.”

They both know what “it” is.

“And then you can come home, none the worse for wear, with a treasure trove besides. Asides from that trip across the sea. Maybe you can think about using the aetheryte on the way back?” She gives a tiny trill of laughter. “Just try not to get pregnant. It wouldn’t be very pleasant then.”

Nezha tilts her head, her tail swishing as she crosses her legs. “And how much of the spoils will I be getting?”

Her mother is silent for a moment. “Since you’re doing all the work...how about thirty percent? The rest goes to the clan, of course. And doubtless that should be enough for you to branch out by yourself.”

“Hmm.” And that clinches it. “Then we have a deal, dearest mother.”

The glasses clink together.


End file.
